


Strip Tease

by Maplesyrup



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lapdance, Stripper fluff? Is that even a thing?, Stripper!Belle, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/pseuds/Maplesyrup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumford Gold just wants to forget for a little while. So he visits a strip club way outside of Storybrook and meets a charming little stripper who really helps him forget his troubles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know if stripper fluff is a thing, but maybe this counts.
> 
> I own nothing at all related to OUAT! This is just for fun.

Rumford Gold walked into the strip club with one thought on his mind: Forget.

Forget the day. Forget the month. Forget his life. Just for a little while, he hoped to lose himself in the soft attention of a woman, regardless that he’d be paying for it.

He’d travelled out of town for this purpose; it wouldn’t do for Storybrook’s most notorious pawn broker and landlord to be seen at the local strip club. He had a reputation to maintain. Hard to get someone to fear you when they know you’ve been desperate enough to seek solace from a paid woman.

No, he’d gone someplace where he wouldn’t be recognized, so he could just stop being Rumford for a night, and give some beautiful young thing her next tuition payment in exchange for getting to see her body and receive her attention. An honest trade.

As he entered, he was hit with the loud music, the hard bass echoing through his chest, the lyrics unintelligible. He looked around, noticed the place was relatively full of other desperate men such as himself, and felt marginally better. Misery loves company, after all.

The interior was painted a dark color, difficult to tell which one as the only light came from the neon lights accenting the walls and stage. It jutted out into the middle of the room, a long runner ending in a circular platform with a low metal fence lining the edge. Chairs surrounded the platform, and more chairs and tables were scattered throughout the room.

All in all, it wasn’t the worst place he’d ever been, but he wouldn’t be submitting a review online anytime soon.

A young blonde woman on stage seemed to be nearing the end of her dance. On her knees facing the men, she was nude save for a baby blue g-string, running her hands along her body and gyrating suggestively. Rumford snorted internally. What was there to suggest when she was basically nude? He shook his head to clear the thought. She did her trade the way she saw fit, he was no one fit to judge.

He selected a seat a few rows back from the stage, and clamped down on the embarrassment he felt upon receiving the looks some of the other men gave him. He wasn’t afraid of competition, not in a place like this. He could outspend the lot of them on a whim. It was the pity in their glances that embarrassed and angered him. He sported a cane, and it was most definitely a necessity, not a stupid fashion ploy. The people of Storybrook normally knew that the clack of his cane was not a good sound, but to the outside world, it was a thing to pity.

Having settled in his seat, he watched the blonde woman finish to applause and a final smattering of currency. Dollars, from the look of it. Rumford would have felt bad for the girl, but as she gathered them up, it was a hefty-looking pile. She smiled and left the stage, high-fiving the DJ as she walked away.

“Alright, give it up one last time for ‘Cinderella’!” The DJ called into the mic. “Ooh, girl, I’ll bippity-bop you any time!” ‘Cinderella’ turned and laughed loudly at him, shaking her head as she disappeared behind a curtain.

The DJ pushed a button on his table and the lights changed to what seemed to Rumford to be tones of red.

“Alright, everybody, I know this is the girl some of you have been dying to see tonight. Let’s see if she can tame the beast in you all…” Some men laughed, a few groaned at the joke. “Ok, ok, I won’t keep her from you any longer. Give it up for my girl ‘Beauty’!”

The music changed to an R&B song Rumford vaguely remembered hearing on the radio at one point. It was aggressive, and sexual, and designed to stimulate.

The curtain at the back of the stage fluttered, and a gold-gloved hand slid out and gripped a fold, sliding down suggestively. The hand pushed the curtain aside to reveal a very pretty face with a flirty look in her eyes. Blue eyes, too. Long-lashed and big enough to drown in. She pushed the rest of the curtains to the side with both hands and stepped out. Clad in a skimpy gold dress, just barely reminiscent of the dress from the Disney film, with knee high white stockings and white sky-high heels. Her breasts were pushed high in the flimsy costume, the hem barely covering the top of her thigh.

Whistles and shouts met her entrance, and she smiled coyly, ducking her head, pretending as if she were shy.

She swayed her hips as she walked slowly, but to the beat to the middle of the stage. A man hollered at her, “Take it off, girl!” Her eyes grew wide and she pressed her hands to her face in mock astonishment. The assembly laughed. Rumford chuckled as well. She knew what she was doing, didn't she? Interesting. 

‘Beauty’ tapped her finger to her cheek in thought, before an idea apparently struck her (all for show, Rumford realized) and she slowly drew the gold glove of that hand off and tossed it to a man in the front row. It landed on his face, and she giggled like a schoolgirl to more laughter and whistles from the men.

They were eating it up.

After the first glove came off, she really got to work. Swaying her hips to the beat, she reached down to the bottom of her bodice and popped the buttons up one by one. When she reached the top button she grabbed both sides of the top and pulled them quickly wide open, baring her naked midriff to the men around her. Her expression was one of relief and joy and she threw her head back with an open-mouthed smile as they cheered for her.

Rumford was suitably impressed, and more than a little aroused watching her.

She tossed the bodice to the side, turning around and bending over while she sensually shimmied the flimsy excuse for a skirt off her ass. And what an ass. Round, tight, but with just the right amount of bounce, perfect for a man’s hand to smack. 

Rumford swallowed hard. _Jesus christ._ He very much wanted to be that man.

As she stood back up and turned to face the men again, she was clad only in a very tiny gold bikini. She did a slow spin, shaking her adorable ass and leaning over to wiggle her shoulders at them all, the movement echoing to her breasts. 

And out came the cash.

The assembled men were practically throwing dollars at her. The little minx watched them fall on the stage, hands on her hips and lips pursed, her message clear. _We can do better than that, gents._

And fucking hell, did Rumford intend to do _much_ better than that.

He stood, pulling his wallet from inside his coat, and pulled out a crisp one-hundred. While the men were shouting at her to “take it _all_ off!” he walked to the stage, staying a respectful distance from the small metal fence surrounding her. He merely set the bill at her feet, and sat in the nearest chair, placing his cane against the table and looking up at her.

She was teasing another man nearby by gyrating her body and toying with the strings of her top when she noticed Rumford. Then she saw his offering.

She looked at him, still toying with her strings and moving, but her eyes stayed on him.

He looked right back, taking in her big eyes, her dark curls, and the little half smirk playing about her rose-colored lips.

She appeared to make a decision, turning to the DJ and making an “Ok” sign with her hands. The DJ read her loud and clear, giving a thumbs up in response.

Suddenly the music changed. The R&B track gone, replaced by something softer.

She dropped down, picked up the hundred, and looked up again at Rumford. He barely caught the words that came from her beautiful mouth.

“Back room #2, 5 minutes.”

She stood, blowing kissed to the men, and swaggered off the stage, leaving the dollars behind.

This did not go well with the men who were hoping for a bigger show, but the DJ intervened before it could get too rowdy. “Alright, alright, I get it, man, but you know the rules. Ladies Choice and it looks like ‘Beauty’ has made hers for the night. Maybe next time, boys! But in the meantime, we’ve got ‘Jasmine’ up next! Maybe if you open your wallets a little wider this time, she’ll show you _her_ world!” He pushed a button, and again the lights changed. 

Rumford paid the assembled neanderthals no heed, moving instead to the DJ.

“Could you tell me where back room two is, please?” He shifted his weight to his cane, trying to appear as anything but a crazy person looking for what was obviously the club’s best girl.

The DJ looked up at him from the turntable and gave him the once-over. “Number 2? Oh, _you’re_ the guy. Sure.” He pointed to a door in the back of the club with a gaudy silver “2” painted on the front.

Rumford wasn’t sure exactly what the DJ meant by “that guy”, but he wasn’t wasting time finding out. He walked to the room, and finding it unlocked, went inside.

The room was small, square, with an inset white couch on three of the walls opposite the door. The lighting was again neon, but paired with soft lights set into a recessed portion of the top of each wall, which bounced light out and gave a gentle glow that mixed nicely with the neon blue.

Gold just stood, looking around the space, when the door bumped him from behind. Startled, he moved away quickly, leaning heavily on his cane for support.

Belle walked in, shutting the door and turning the lock. She was dressed in a different bikini, this one red, but with strings much the same as the gold suit.

She turned back to Rumford and smiled. “Hi.”

He gulped. “H-hello.”

“Why don’t you have a seat and get comfortable, and we can start?” Belle moved to a panel on the wall by the door and pushed a button. Low music filled the room, another R&B track, but this time, with female singers.

He sat, leaning his cane on the couch near him. “What’s this song?” 

She walked slowly towards him. “It’s called ‘Shoop’. Have you heard it before?”

Rumford shook his head. “No, I’m afraid it’s a new musical experience for me.” He smiled wryly.

Belle smiled back, sitting next to him. “It’s one of my favorites. The women rapping were some of the first female rappers in the industry and the song is about women getting their own in whatever way they like.”  
  
“Is that so?”

“Yes. But I’m guessing you don’t really want a music lesson, hmm?”

Rumford chuckled softly, looking down at his hands clasped together in his lap. “Well, I’m always happy to have a conversation with a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“Not at all, it’s merely the truth. You’re quite lovely.”

Belle laughed. “Oh, you are sweet. What brings a man like you to a place like this?”

Rumford hesitated. How could he admit to this glorious thing that he was here out of desperation? He could take pity from glances from the men outside, but he didn’t think her pity was something he could stomach.

So he lied.

“Just needed something to do, dearie.” He cringed inwardly. It was a term he reserved for the people of Storybrook who pissed him off. And it came across as snide.

Belle raised an eyebrow. “Sure.” He could tell she saw right through him, but didn’t press the issue. “Well, Mr…”

“Gold”

“Well, Mr. Gold, let’s see if we can give you something worth your time and money, shall we?”

The music changed to another song, this one reminding him distinctly of the way desire could throb through the blood. Fitting, as she chose that moment to straddle him.

He was instantly hard, her scent filling his nostrils, curls cascading across his face. His hands itched to touch her, to feel if her skin was as soft as it looked.

As if reading his mind, she leaned in and said softly, “You can touch if you want. And I’ll touch you, too. In here, I’m in control and I set the pace, and the price. So go ahead,” and he could hear the teasing note enter her voice, “just be gentle with me, Mr. Gold.”

Hearing his name in that voice sent electricity down his spine and straight into his groin. His hands fluttered in the air for a moment, unsure of where he wanted to start first. He decided on her waist and settled his hands on her.

She was exactly as soft as she looked. Softer, even. He experimentally slid his hands up, fingers grazing the string of her top in back.

Belle made a little noise in her throat, and pushed back from him slightly, rolling her hips just above his lap and he could feel her body heat through his slacks. It distracted him from his quest to explore the places she would let him.

She lifted her self higher on her knees, arching and rolling her back so her stomach came close to his face, running her fingers through his hair. He growled and shivered, longing to press his mouth to the gentle swell just below her navel, to nibble and kiss and see what other noises she made.

He mourned the loss when she slipped off his lap, his arms feeling empty and a noise reminiscent of a whine escaping him. She smiled and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhh, Mr. Gold. I won’t be gone long, and you’ll like this part, I promise.”

He stared, mesmerized as she slid her hands up her body and brought them to the strings at her neck. She turned around, staying close to him but facing the door, and pulled the bow loose with one hand. The strings fluttered down and she reached behind her with the other hand and pulled the remaining strings around her back loose.

She brought one hand up and behind her head, and dropped the top in Rumford’s lap, but she didn’t turn back around. He took her top in his hands, still warm from her skin and raised it to his nose, inhaling her personal scent. She smelled divine. 

Instead of turning back to him, she widened her stance and, gathering her hair in her hands, bent over, hinging at the hips. She let her hair fall, and slid her hands up the back of her legs, raising herself up as she went, until her hands reached her ass. She grabbed the flesh there and squeezed, lifting a bit and releasing.

Rumford watched, her body quite close to his face. He brought his hands up to her ass after she finished squeezing, and took up the job. 

She giggled, bringing her hands back to press his harder into her flesh. “I know I said be gentle, but I definitely won’t break, Mr. Gold. And you can talk to me, if you’d like.” She swiveled her hips, bringing herself practically in contact with his face.

 _If only._  

He slid his hands to her hips, and found his voice again. “Jesus christ. You’re so beautiful, so soft. Would you spread your legs again and sit on my lap facing away?” He almost felt dirty asking, but when she complied with a soft sigh (a happy sigh? He couldn’t tell) he couldn’t have given a fuck about feeling dirty if he tried.

She was a tiny woman; her legs were spread on either side of his and her feet didn’t quite touch the floor. But she was a gorgeous lapful. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his knees and moved her hips in circles over him. Each circle rolled across his hardness and he had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from embarrassing himself by coming in his pants. He stroked a hand down her back and she arched into his touch, throwing her head back as she rolled her body against him.

Belle leaned back against his chest and brought her hands to card through his hair, resting her head back against his shoulder. His face was practically buried in her neck but he couldn’t seem to make himself pull back. She took his hands and slid them to her waist, turning her head to whisper in his ear.

“Touch me, Mr. Gold. Please.”

He complied eagerly, sliding his hands slowly up her ribs, eliciting a giggle and a squirm, her ass pressing harder against his cock with the movement. 

“Careful, I’m very ticklish.”

Rumford grinned into her hair, the knowledge distracting him a bit from his problem, and fluttered his fingers across her ribs.

Belle bucked, laughing, and trying to dislodge his hands. “Oh! Stop, please, that’s not fair!”

He chuckled in her ear. “You shouldn’t have told me you were ticklish, my dear,” he whispered darkly. “I’m merciless when I learn someone’s secret.”

Having found a bit of the upper hand in a situation where he was very much at her feet, Rumford was able to pull some of his usual facade to turn the tables on her. In the back of his mind, he hoped it wasn’t pushing too far.

Belle was giggling uncontrollably at his tickling, but stopped abruptly when he made the bold move to slide his hands up to her breasts.

He held her for a moment, both of them breathing heavily. His eyes dropped down, and he mentally noted how her small, but perfect breasts fit his hands like they were made for him. He mentally braced for a slap, or for her to rush from the room and call security to throw him out on his crippled ass.

Instead, she brought her hands to his and squeezed him harder against her breasts, much like she had done when he was touching her ass.

“Don’t stop.” She said in a breathy voice. “Please.” She released his hands, sliding hers back up into his hair and grabbing lightly.

She kept rolling her hips against him as he played gently with her breasts, sliding his thumbs over her nipples and rolling them until they had hardened. She moaned and tightened her hold on his hair. 

He dared to press his face into her neck and lightly kissed her pulse point. She gasped. “Oh! Yes!”

Still rolling the nipple of one breast in his fingers, he released the other and slid his hand down across her stomach, stopping just below her navel and waiting for her assent.

She gave it once she gained enough coherence to realized what he was asking. She slid his hand lower and let go, letting him take the rest of the way.

He slid his hand inside the bottoms she still wore, and stroked the top of her pubis, feeling the small patch of soft, curly hair. He wondered what color it was; if she dyed her hair or if she was natural all around.

Rumford slipped his fingers lower, gently tracing her labia with a few fingertips, her answering whimper music in his ears. He delved in further, finding her flesh slippery and hot. He inhaled sharply; part of him was expecting it all to be an act on her part, but this kind of arousal was very difficult to fake.

She writhed in his lap, trying to get his fingers where she needed them most. “Please, Mr. Gold…ah! I need…oh!”

“Rumford.” He said gruffly, lust making his voice deep and slightly hoarse.

‘Wh-what?” She was practically incoherent with desire herself and didn’t catch on at first.

“My name, it’s Rumford.” And some devil inside him prompted him to say, “Scream it as necessary.”

“Rumford!” She said pleadingly, making him harder than he was, if such a thing was possible.

He slipped a finger inside her. _Fuck, she’s so hot and wet._ “Is this what you want, sweetheart?” The endearment slipped easily off his tongue. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.” And he meant it; he’d give her anything to keep her making those noises and writhing in his lap.

“Oh, god! I need… please, another finger inside me!”

He complied and she mewled in pleasure. Rumford brought his thumb up to massage her clit, pressing the small bud with the pad of his thumb as his fingers worked inside her wet heat. 

Belle’s head pressed further back, her panting and moaning increasing. Rumford switched his hand from one breast to the next, supporting her with his arm partially across her chest, while still playing with her nipple.

Her motions became erratic in his lap. “Oh god! Oh, yes! I’m going…I’m…” He felt her stiffen in his arms. “Rumford!” If her whimpers were music, her screaming his name was a symphony. He felt her inner muscles clench around his fingers and he pressed himself against her, not coming, but relishing the pressure nonetheless.

Rumford held onto her as she came down from her orgasm, her limbs shaking slightly. She laughed breathlessly, her hands dropping from his hair.

“Oh my god.” She laughed again. Rumford kept holding her, letting her recover, and surreptitiously nuzzling into her hair. His erection demanded attention, but he ignored it.

Belle sat up slowly in his lap, and moved so that she was perpendicular to him. She ducked her head as a flush covered her cheeks, visible even in the dimly lit room. She brought up her arms to cover her chest. Rumford leaned forward a bit and removed his coat, draping it around her shoulders. Belle looked vulnerable, and tiny, in his jacket, and while he felt a surge of possessive pride at her in his clothing, he was very aware of the vulnerability that came after letting a stranger be so intimate with you. He’d been on the not-so-pleasant end of it many a time.

He was the first to speak, gently putting a hand on her lower back. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” There was the endearment again. It felt completely natural to use it. 

“Yes, I just…I should probably take care of you, huh? That can’t be comfortable.”

Rumford blanched. Surely she didn’t think…but of course she would, look at where they were and what she did for fuck’s sake. He shook his head.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“But—“

He cupped her cheek, smiling gently at her. “No. You don’t owe me anything. It was spur of the moment and I very much enjoyed what we did. I’ve…never been to a place like this before, but I’m fairly certain that was _you_ who made the choice for us to do that. I don’t think it’s a condition of your job and neither is it for you to…relieve me, so to speak.”

She stared at him for a minute, looking as if she didn’t quite believe her ears.

“Well, at the very least, you’re not paying me for this. This was…wonderful, but I don’t want your money. OK?”

It was his turn to pause, several thoughts going through his head at once. One one hand, Belle was working and as pleasurable as what they did was, she deserved to be paid for the work she did before they got to that point. On the other, they’d all but had sex in that small room, and if money changed hands, wouldn’t that make her no better than a prostitute? That she definitely was not. He personally had no issue with strippers, but forcing a woman into prostitution, even accidentally, was not palatable to him, and never would be.

Rumford sighed. “Of course, I completely understand. But please, be sure to keep the hundred. And be sure to collect the rest of the money that was out there when you left. You earned that before we…came in here.”

Belle made a face, smiling and wrinkling her nose. “I kind of did, didn’t I? And don’t worry. Tony, he’s the DJ and owner, will collect for me. I won’t lose a dime of what was there.” She reached next to him for her discarded top. “Oh! I totally forgot! I never got to ask what you thought of my set!” She smiled at him, her vulnerability still there but hidden under her professional mask once again.

“I thought you were very charming. It was almost more burlesque than stripping, but either way, charming.” He smiled at her.

She smiled back, then sighed. “What time is it?”

Rumford checked his watch. “Almost 1:30am”

She wrinkled her nose again, this time in displeasure. “Damn. We’ve been here an hour, and there’s still an hour and a half left out there before we close.”

“Not too keen to go back out, hmm?”

Belle gave him a droll look. “Not particularly. I’m feeling somewhat prematurely tired, I wonder why?” She tapped her finger against her chin in mock contemplation, pursing her lips.

She was adorable, and he told her so.

“You really are utterly charming, dear.” He looked at his watch again and sighed. It was a long drive back to Storybrook, but he was loathe to leave the beauty in his arms.

“I know, I really should let you get on with your night.”

“Perhaps.”  
  
They stared at each other for a minute. She seemed to be deciding on something, and he saw a spark of courage in her eyes right before her lips met his.

It was small and a little clumsy, but earnest, and he brought both his hands up to cup her face.

All too soon, the kiss ended and she pulled back, his hands still on her face.

“We’re a little backwards, huh?” Belle grinned sheepishly.

“How do you figure?” Rumford’s head was swimming.

“Well, normally a kiss comes first…”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, well…” His muddy brain was making coherent speech difficult. He’d had her basically naked in his arms earlier, pleasuring her and suffering with a full-blown cockstand himself, and a kiss was enough to make him come undone? “Not everything has to be by the book, sweetheart.”

She laughed, and moved off his lap, slipping her top back on and handing his coat back to him.

“Thank you.”

He took the coat from her and slipped it back on, feeling the warmth she imparted to it seep into him as he stood with the assistance of his cane. “No, my dear, thank you. This was … unusual, but very welcome and a pleasant surprise.”

She went to him and adjusted his tie, smoothing his lapels afterward.

“Yes, well,” She hesitated, turning a little serious. “You know this isn’t something I normally do, right? What we did? In fact, I’ve never done that while doing this job. I just…wanted you to know that.”

Rumford slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Of course you don’t. Moments happen, sweet, please don’t stress over it. You’re wonderful.”

Belle leaned into him for a moment before pulling away and unlocking the door. She leaned against it for a moment, looking at him a little wistfully. He was so good-looking. Longer hair than men usually wore, streaked through with grey, his beautiful eyes and the mouth she couldn’t stop herself from kissing, his strong nose. She looked him over. And goddamn could the man wear a suit. _Shit._ She was in trouble.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Rumford Gold.” She smiled as he stepped through the doorway after her and she turned back to look at her. The club had grown much less crowded in the time they were alone, and she felt comfortable with a personal goodbye in the open. “I better get going. Thank you for coming in tonight.”

He shook his head at her. “No, thank you for picking me. Good night.”

“Goodnight.” She walked to the opposite side of the club where the dressing rooms were and disappeared.

Rumford looked around, locating the DJ at his booth, tidying up for the night. He reached into his pocked and pulled out a small rectangle, handing it to the younger man. It was his business card.

“Excuse me, would you kindly give this to that young woman who just walked away?”

Tony looked him up and down, much like he had before, but with a glint of protectiveness in his eye that Rumford uncharacteristically missed. 

 _Expensive suits ain’t shit, man._  

“Sure.”

Rumford smiled, genuinely pleased and more than a little relieved. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Please let her know that’s my personal cell. Have a pleasant evening.” He turned and left the establishment, feeling far lighter than he had coming in.

Tony looked at the card. _Rumford Gold, Fine Antiquities and Properties_. He scoffed. 

_One fucking lap dance and this dude thinks he’s gonna sweep Belle off her feet? Sad fucker._

He tossed the card into the nearest trash bin, certain in the knowledge he was saving Belle from an annoying old man at best, stalker at worst. He went back to cleaning up the booth and thought no more of the crippled man and his expensive suit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so much smut here, mostly a little smutty reminiscing.
> 
> lol, "Stripperverse" is what I'm calling this :D
> 
> (Moonlight91, I stole a line from your comment on the first chapter, I hope you don't mind :))

Belle woke up the next day feeling very satisfied, both with herself and her new … friend. She leisurely rolled over to look at her clock. 10:00am. Perfect time to wake up. Especially in a mood like this. She wondered if Rumford had slept as well as she had. She shivered as she remembered his hands on her, and the way he growled his name in her ear. She hadn’t come like that in a long time.

And couldn’t wait to do it again. 

Belle giggled, pulling a pillow over her face. _Idiot._

Bouncing out of bed, unable to wipe away her goofy smile, she walked into her bathroom. Normally she slept in a pair of well-worn pajamas, covered in a whimsical pattern of little penguins riding snowflakes, but last night, riding her delicious high from her encounter with that sexy, suited man, she chose to sleep naked.

And damn if she didn’t want to keep sleeping naked. And maybe invite a certain someone to sleep naked with her.

Belle picked up her phone and plugged it into the dock on the side of her bathroom sink, pressing a button, and music filled the room. She moved around the bathroom in time to the music, turning on the shower and glancing at herself in the mirror. She leaned over the sink, checking her reflection as the water warmed and filled the room with steam. She began to swivel her hips in abandon to the music playing, enjoying the warm steam and her naked body.

She danced her way into the shower, tugging the curtain closed after her and set to getting ready for the day.

__________________________

While Belle was just beginning her day in sultry steam, Rumford had been going over his account books since 8:00am. Well, attempting to, anyway. His thoughts kept straying to the previous night and that tiny, delectable woman he made come in his arms.

The memory was making him hard, and he scowled at his crotch. _Traitor._ He considered it bad form to be aroused in his shop. The townsfolk already had enough to gossip about; if someone came in and noticed his … problem, there’s be no shutting their mouths.

Rumford shut the book with more force that necessary, irritated at his inability to master his thoughts and body. He moved to the back work room, intending to find one of his many pieces that needed restoring to force his mind back to sensible tracks. What happened in the dead of night at a neon-drenched club was different than what decent folk did during daylight.

He picked up a half-finished teardrop necklace, a recent acquisition to his shop, the previous owner having hocked it to pay off a debt. The inset rubies caught the light and the delicate gold chain slipping smoothly across his hands.

_Like her skin._

“Goddamn it!” He cried, slapping the necklace back down. What was he, a fucking teenager? One hand job in the back of a club and his hormones had fucking regressed. Rumford sighed, deciding to take a walk to clear his head, maybe go for some coffee. Perhaps scalding his tongue would take his mind off her. And her skin. And breasts. And ass.

He exited the shop, locking it behind him and made his scowling way to the local diner.

__________________________

Belle went in to work early, needing to speak with Tony about changing the music for her sets. She’d recently discovered an artist who's work was new to her and she wanted to try out a routine using their music. She’d tucked a CD into the bag she usually brought with her to work.

The club looked so much different in the daytime, and Belle never could get over it. Without the neon and horny, lonely men, it seemed almost normal, the stage looking practically pageant-ready. And that was kind of weird to her.

She saw Tony on the stage, seeming to be repairing one of the bars of the low metal fence lining the edge. She walked up to him. 

“What happened here?” She indicated the repair job with a nod of her head.

Tony pulled a face. “One of Jasmine’s regulars got a little handsy with the fence and it came off in his hand. So my ass is trying to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I’m reinforcing the hell out of this, the fucking Hulk won’t be able to get it off when I’m done.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “You do that, Tony. Hey, when you’re done, can we go over the music for my set? I have a few things I want to try out before tonight.”

Tony paused his repair, giving her a quizzical look. “You want to change your routine? Sure, but why? It’s been a hit, despite that you never go full-out.”

Belle shrugged. “I found some new tracks that I’m really digging, and want to see how they work with a dance, that’s all.”

Tony snorted, and turned back to his repair. “Yeah, ok, Belle. Why do I feel like this has something to do with that fancy dude last night?”

“What? What does that have to do with anything? I’m just trying to change things up a little, keep everyone from getting bored!”

“Horseshit. I saw his face. He was full-fanboy and you were giving it good. His ass’ll be back, fuck me if he won’t. How much did you get off him, anyway? Five, six? A grand?”

Belle hesitated. She couldn’t tell Tony what happened in the back room. Despite his manners, or lack thereof, he was like a big brother to her. A big brother who happened to own and run a titty bar, but an older brother nonetheless. And he did have a bottom line to maintain.

So she lied.

“A grand.”

Tony whistled through his teeth. “Nice. I love it when they’re spending is as fancy as their fucking suits.”

Belle forced a laugh, changing the subject. “Yeah, right. I’ll put the cut on your desk after I change.” She moved towards the dressing rooms, but stopped, turning back to Tony.

“Hey, that man last night, did he … did he say anything before he left?” Belle blushed slightly, feeling a bit insecure.

Tony looked away, concentrating more than strictly necessary on the repairs in front of him.

“Nah. He just, you know, left.” He wiped his forehead, and looked at Belle, but didn’t quite meet her eyes. “You know the type, Belle. All moony in the back but when time’s up, they’re out the fucking door.” He shrugged. “I gotta get back to this repair if you want to try that new routine before tonight.”

Belle’s heart sank. She was sure he’d have asked after her, but … maybe she was being naive. She was currently a stripper, after all. She sold a fantasy. But she thought Rumford was different, especially after what they had done together.

“Ok, well, just wondering.” She turned to go, but Tony’s voice stopped her.

“Belle, honey, you know better. I know you’re still kind of new to this, but you know what this is. He won’t come back, trust me.” He laughed. “Maybe you gave too good, sweetie. Busted his shit wide open and he’s probably gonna live off that for awhile. Just focus on the money, sexy.”

Belle shook her head. “Right. You’re right.” She blew out a tense breath. “I’m just gonna drop my music at the booth and then I’m gonna change.”

She walked to the DJ table, pulling the CD out of her bag before setting it on the floor. She set the disc next to the turntable laptop’s mouse and moved to wake up the monitor. Her hand slipped and she accidentally knocked the music in the trash bin by the table. Laughing at her clumsiness, Belle reached in and grabbed the encased disc, pulling it back out.

A small white flash caught her eye and she looked closer into the bin.

A business card? Why would Tony throw that away? He was usually more careful with networking opportunities, always looking for a way to expand his business. Maybe he accidentally knocked it in like she had with the CD. She pulled it out, intending to save Tony from himself when she noticed the script embossed on the card.

 _Rumford Gold, Fine Antiquities and Properties._ A phone number was imprinted on the back. The pieces clicked together. 

_Son of a bitch._

She straightened up quickly, looking for Tony by the stage, and rushed over angrily.

“What the fuck is this, Tony?” She thrust the card under his nose. “He just left, huh? Won’t come back? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Tony was bewildered for a moment before realizing what she had shoved at him. He took the card from her hand.

“Hey, man, don’t be mad at me! He was all fucking _drooly_ over you, Belle! He’s either some kind of pervert, or a lonely old man, and either way, I was doing you a favor by throwing this away. Fuck that guy!”

He tore the card completely up and tossed the pieces on the floor.

Belle was so angry, she wanted to spit.

“You asshole!” She yelled at him. “Did it ever occur to you that it’s _not your choice_ whom I spend my time or emotions on? That whatever happens, it’s _my_ mistake to make or not make? Jesus tap dancing christ, you are a fucking idiot.”

Tony frowned at her and threw up his hands. “Oh, what _ever_ , Belle.” He gestured to the little pieces of paper on the floor. “I tore the fucking thing up, so it doesn’t matter what you think, the decision has been made.”

Belle’s face was murderous. “First off, don’t ever tell me what I think doesn’t matter again, and second, we have this lovely thing called “Internet” and you can find practically anything with it. So congratulations, you haven’t stopped anything, except me working here. Get bent, Tony.”

She rushed and grabbed her bag, storming out.

Tony stared after her, his jaw hanging open.  
  
_Well, fuck._

____________________________

As Belle was yelling the roof of the club down, Rumford had successfully scorched his tongue and failed to remove Belle from his thoughts. The hot coffee in his mouth couldn’t compare to her heat as it had surrounded his fingers, and the usually soothing scent of the ground beans paled in comparison to the smell of her.

He sighed, leaning back in the booth he had occupied for the better part of a half hour. Luckily, it was a slow point of the day at the diner and he had the place virtually to himself. He stared out the window, contemplating whether or not to go back that evening to see her.

Would she find that odd? Perhaps stalker-like behavior? Or maybe last night had been more than just two strangers sharing a moment in the back of a club? The way she looked at him before he left indicated that she was amendable to more. And, of course, she had kissed him. How could he forget about that? _She_ kissed _him_. He snorted, mostly at himself. Even smart men were stupid from time to time. 

Yes. He was fairly certain she wouldn’t think it odd if he made another appearance at her club. Perhaps she would wear a different dress tonight, and maybe she would let him touch her again.

He shook himself mentally, and took another sip of his coffee. As pleasurable as that was, their relationship, or whatever it was, couldn’t consist of manually pleasuring one another in the back room of a strip club. She deserved better that that. He wished he had asked for her phone number, or email address, or cliff peak for smoke signals, _something_ by which to contact her and ask her for a proper date. And perhaps her real name, as well. Names were always helpful.

Well, the only way to contact her was face to face, then. He was alright with that, he’d just have to improvise and hope the atmosphere of the club didn’t make his asking come across as seedy.

He got up, tossing a few bills on the table, and made his way back to his shop, intending to close early and spend ample time getting ready for his hopefully productive evening.

____________________________

Belle sat in the cafe nearest the club, trying to locate Rumford via the internet, and having some trouble. Most people nowadays had some kind of internet presence, but she couldn’t find a single thing on him. No cell, no address, nothing. How was that even possible? The only thing she found was an obscure, buried mention of his shop in some random review from years ago. But… there it was, a phone number. Tucked at the bottom of the article, the 10 digits were right there before her, and she pulled out her phone and dialed.

It rang. And rang.

In Rumford’s shop, the seldom-used phone in the back work room blared a tinny ring, and it echoed around without answer.

No answering machine picked up, and Belle hung up after letting it ring several times.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

She was never going to see him again, not unless by some miracle she went back to the club and he decided to attend some night. Also assuming he didn’t think she was blowing him off because she never called. Stupid, fucking Tony. That _moron_.

She gathered her things and went back to her car, started it, and drove home.

____________________________

Rumford stood outside the club once more, but with a far better disposition this night than he had the last.

He walked inside, ignoring the glances from the other men, and settled into a seat at the front of the stage, waiting for her to come out.

The first two women passed with little interest from Rumford. The third was lovely, but he eyed her the same way you’d view a lovely painting or sculpture. No real desire, just a vague appreciation.

The fifth woman came and went, and the sixth and finally, the seventh.

Rumford was … very confused. He had assumed she worked most nights, but then, he never did ask her, did he? Perhaps she wast just off tonight, or perhaps ….

No. He wouldn’t let his mind go there. There was a reason for this, there had to be. She was sick or off, or something. Maybe she left his card in the dressing room and forgot she had it? So many variables, no need to jump to the worst conclusion, however much his stupid brain wanted to.

As the final set ended, and the music was lowered to something that could accompany the remaining men as they sidled to the bar, he stood, and approached the DJ. Tony, he recalled her telling him the proprietor’s name the night before.

“Excuse me, Tony? May I ask where, um, ‘Beauty’ is this evening? I was hoping to see her.”

Tony glanced at him dismissively, but recognized him immediately. “She’s not here tonight, Mac. Sorry.” He turned back to his mixing software.

“Could you tell me when she’ll return?”

Tony turned back to Rumford. “Dude.” Tony said, exasperation clear in his voice. “If you have to fucking know, she quit today, ok? And I have you to thank for it, so, you know, _thanks_.”

“She quit?” Rumford asked, incredulous. “Why? She seemed to enjoy herself very much up there. What happened?”

Tony had had it with the questions. He placed his hands on the table and leaned in towards Rumford. “You happened, asshole. You know that card you gave me? I tore it the fuck up and she quit on the spot. So, like I said, fucking _thanks_. She was my best girl and you fucked it all up.”

Rumford’s mood darkened, and he sneered at the younger man. 

“I fucked it up? Really? I asked you simply to give her my card, and you decided to ‘tear it the fuck up’, as you succinctly put it, and _I’m_ the one at fault?” He flourished the hand not gripping the cane. “In case you hadn’t noticed, dearie, women indeed have their own minds, and it looks like she exercised hers. A sound judgement, if I do say so myself.”

He brought both hands to the handle of his cane and glowered at Tony.

“Now, if you please, tell me how I can get in touch with her, and be so kind as to let me use your telephone.” 

Tony stared back, a frisson of fear collecting in his gut, to his shame. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of toughness.

“Fine. Whatever. Call her, I don’t give a fuck. You can have each other. Phone’s by the bar and her number’s on a sheet under it.” He pointed towards the bar.

Rumford smiled maliciously. “Wise choice.” He made his way to the phone, located and dialed Belle’s number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: There be smut in them thar hills!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT :D

Belle was lying on her couch, still awake in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling and contemplating using some of the money she’d made stripping these past months to hire a private detective.

She wasn’t even sure how you went about hiring one in the first place. Did they advertise on the internet, or was there a late-night infomercial or—

Her phone rang beside her, interrupting her musings.

She turned her head to look, noticing the phone number of the club on the screen, and dropped her head back to the couch pillow with a growl. 

_Probably Tony calling to beg me to come back, stupid shit. He can go fuck himself._

The phone kept ringing, and Belle sighed, deciding to just tell him off again herself and then go to bed.

She picked up on the third ring.

“Tony, what the hell part of ‘I quit’ don’t you understand, you meat-headed—“

“Belle?”

She stopped dead. That voice. She’d know that voice anywhere despite only recently learning it.

“Rumford?”

“Yes.”

“Hi!”

“Hello.” If it were possible for the subtext of ‘hello’ to be ‘let me come over and fuck you’, Rumford was definitely using it.

He cleared his throat on the other end. “I … came to see you again tonight, but Tony informed me that you had quit. And then he very graciously gave me your phone number.”

Belle snorted. And then realized something.

“Wait, how did you know my real name?”

“It was on the list of numbers, right next to your stage name. I must say, Tony really should be more careful with his employees’ information. It was practically on display by the bar.”

Belle felt stupid for a brief second. _Of course that’s where he got it, idiot._ “Yeah, he’s never seen it as a problem, so … anyway. Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, but what are you doing up so late still? Didn’t you want to go back home? It’s two in the morning!”

She heard him chuckle. “I don’t mind the hour, and I very much wanted to talk with you.” He paused. “I hope I haven't disturbed your rest. Would you like me to let you go?”

“No! Don’t let me go!” Belle burst out. She slapped a hand to her forehead. _What the hell, Belle._ “I … I mean, no, it’s fine, I was awake still.”

“Why were you still awake when you haven’t anywhere to be tonight, sweetheart?”

Belle closed her eyes in pleasure at the endearment. _Fucking hell._ “I’m used to being up this late, and besides, I was thinking and probably couldn’t sleep if I tried right now. I don’t have any roommates to bother with my puttering around, so it’s really fine.”

“I see.” Rumford said, and Belle was sure she heard his voice deepen. He took an audible breath. “Would you like some company?”

Belle’s brain dove right into some very naughty places, and she tried to marshal her voice enough to not give it away in response. “Actually, I would, yes. But what about you, don’t you have to get up early for work or something?”

Rumford laughed, the rich sound sliding down her spine and settling between her legs. “No, darling. I’m self-employed, so I can do whatever I please. And what I’d very much like is to come see you right now.”

Belle bit her lip, excitement and nerves lancing through her and making her heart pound.

“Then please do.” She gave him her address; he was still in the parking lot of the club and she lived a half hour away, but he was more than happy to make the drive to see her.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

They hung up.

Belle looked down at her phone for a second before realizing; a half hour! She had a half hour before he would be here, in her home, and she was still on her damn couch with her hair a mess. That wouldn’t do.

She launched herself off her couch and ran to her bathroom, giving a quick assessing glance to her reflection. She turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face, and dried with a towel. She brushed her teeth, and pulled her hair out of the messy bun she had been wearing since she got home that afternoon, flipping her hair over and fluffing the curls. She flipped back up and looked at herself. Her curls were appropriately wild about her face. _Perfect._

She didn’t bother with makeup; she’d always liked her face as it was, and makeup was for the stage. She took her lip balm from her makeup bag and gave her lips a quick swipe, pressing them together to bring out their fullness. Belle looked down at her mint green tunic sweater, the sleeves pushed up at the elbows, and down to the black leggings she wore. Checking to make sure nothing had holes, and putting on the finishing touch of a little deodorant, she dashed to her bedroom to make sure it was neat enough for company.

She pulled out her nightstand drawer. _Yes!_ Nestled inside were several condoms, still within their expiration dates. She was clean and on the pill, but she never wanted to take any chances. She counted them again. Eight.

 _Would that be enough?_ Or would he see them and wonder what she _really_ did with her spare time?

Belle took a deep breath. “Cool your jets, Belle”, she said out loud to herself, laughing at her thoughts. “Getting a little ahead of ourself, there.” She released a breath, looking around the room. Neat enough to her satisfaction.

It was then she heard the door buzzer.

Belle shrieked and jumped in a little happy dance before moving quickly back to her living room. She pushed the speaker button on the com next to her door.

“Hello?” She was practically giddy and smiling like a moron.

A slight crackle and then, “Hello, Belle? It’s Rumford. May I come up?”

Belle giggled, pushing the button to reply. “Well, you did come all this way, so it’s only polite. I’m on the second floor, and there’s an elevator in the lobby. Hang on, I’ll buzz you in.” She released the com and pressed the buzzer to allow him entry.

Opening her door enough to lean out, she listened for the faint tap of his cane on the stone floor of the lobby as he made his way to the elevator. Silence for a moment and then the cheerful ding of the doors and the muted metallic slide of the elevator opening and closing.

Excitement was practically choking her as she shut her door again, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She shook out her hands and swung her arms, trying to dispel some of the nervous energy collecting inside her.

Her doorbell rang. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Rumford was standing there, cane in hand, long evening coat over another beautiful suit, and he was smiling at her in such a shy way that it made her heart constrict in her chest.

Belle leaned against the door, smiling back at him. “Hi.”

“Hello.” He said simply, holding up a bottle with the hand that wasn’t resting on the cane. “I hope you don’t think it too much, but I passed a store and selected this for you as a thank you for having me over.”

Belle took the bottle, her body language conveying he was welcome to enter her home.

“Oh! Thank you, Rumford! That’s so sweet of you. Please, come in, make yourself comfortable, and don’t worry about your shoes, ok? I’ll get a couple glasses and be back in just a moment!”

Belle took his coat, hanging it on a peg next to her door, and moved to her small kitchenette. She took two glasses down from a cupboard and took her corkscrew from its magnetic mount on her refrigerator. Opening the bottle, she inhaled the fumes, and hummed appreciatively. It was a Malbec, and a deep, sultry one by the smell of it. She set to carefully pouring them each a glass.

Rumford took a moment to wipe his shoes on her doormat, so as not to damage her lovely cream carpet. He made his way to the couch, and upon sitting, looked around at her small, eclectic living room. All of her furniture was charmingly mismatched, but very inviting and comfortable. The couch and armchair were overstuffed and in colors that would have clashed, were they attempting to be part of a set. As it were, nothing else matched anywhere, so it seemed as if it were all on purpose. 

The entire effect was quite homey, and caused a warm tingle in his chest.

He looked at the framed photos on her walls, her with friends, several with a slightly older woman who was the spitting image of Belle, just older. Framed posters were hung here and there. He saw _My Fair Lady_ , _The Usual Suspects_ , and one from the animated disney film, _Beauty and the Beast_. It made him smile.

There was a flatscreen television sitting on an old army trunk across from the couch, with bookcases flanking either side. He noticed there were books spilling on to the top of each case, and as his gaze travelled around the room, he saw there was at least one book on almost every available surface, including her small, round dining table with two chairs, and in almost every available genre. 

He saw histories, new science fictions, classics, a large volume of Shakespeare’s entire body of work, a few Vonnegut’s, and more than a few romance novels. In fact, there was one open, pages down, on the low glass coffee table in front of him. He glanced at the cover, seeing a buxom blonde woman being held by a swarthy, muscled man. The title read _Her Dark Guard_. 

Rumford couldn’t help but pick up the book, just to have a peek at the story.

His eyes scanned the page; Belle had stopped at what appeared to be the start of a very sensual scene, and he got a little sucked in and didn’t notice right away when Belle came to stand next to him.

Belle saw the book in his hand, and laughed sheepishly. “No accounting for taste, huh?” She smiled and handed him a glass before sitting down.

Rumford took the glass and set the book back down as she sat.

“On the contrary, my dear. Reading is important and you obviously love it, so what does it matter what you choose to read, so long as you do it?” He held his glass out to her.

Belle clinked it with her own. “Hear, hear, Rumford.” They took sips, Belle moaning at the taste. “Oh my god, you got this at a store nearby? This is amazing.”

He held the bowl of the glass in his palm, finding himself staring at her mouth as she vocalized her appreciation. “Yes, I was … surprised myself, but you never know where you’ll find a hidden gem.” He took another sip of his wine.

Bell crossed her legs, turning to face him a little more, and smiling at him. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling since he stepped into her home.

“Oh, I hear that. So, Rumford, would you like to know what I was thinking of when you called me?” She said before taking a deep sip.

“Actually, I would, if you’d care to tell me.” He shifted in his seat, turning more towards her this time, to better give her his full attention.

Belle looked down, color rising in her cheeks. “I was thinking about hiring a private detective to find you. Tony said you gave him your card to give to me, but that stupid idiot tore it up, and when I went looking for your info online, there was nothing. I mean _nothing_.” She looked up at him. “How the hell did you manage to—“

She was abruptly cut off by the feeling of Rumford’s lips on her own. She couldn’t properly close her eyes and enjoy it she was so surprised. They’d kissed the previous night, but that was soft and short and this was _anything_ but.

Rumford pulled back long enough to take her wineglass and place both glasses on the table. He moved back in for another kiss, and this time she was prepared, her eyes fluttering closed as he moved closer and slid an arm around her to pull her closer to him as well.

In the passion of their kissing, she ended up being pulled half on his lap, one leg tucked under her and the other slid in between both of his, and his arm urged her closer still.

She slid one hand up to the back of his neck and tugged until their positions had switched and he was half atop her on her couch.

He moved from her mouth down to her neck and she tilted her head to grant him better access. Rumford nipped at her pulse point and soothed the bite with his tongue. Belle moaned at the sensation of his teeth and tongue on her and he growled in response.

She shifted slightly underneath him, her thighs straddling one of his, and he slipped a hand under her back to press her pelvis against his thigh as he moved his leg forward against her, ripping a sharp cry from her throat.

Rumford was in fucking heaven. Belle in his arms again, and she was moaning and writhing _again_ from what _he_ was doing to her. He vowed internally to find all the places that would make her squirm and scream, if she would let him.

His ankle chose that moment to complain.

Rumford pulled back with a grimace and a hiss. Belle gazed at him, a little dazed.  
  
“Rumford? What’s wrong?” She stroked her hand down his cheek.

He nuzzled into her palm for a moment before replying.

“Yes, sweet, it’s just … my ankle, you see. As much as I’m enjoying this, my ankle has other ideas.”

Belle stared at him for a second before it dawned on her. 

“Oh! Of course, I understand!” She wriggled out from underneath him, and it was all he could do to not moan at the loss of contact and heat.

He was preparing to shift into a more respectable distance when she got on her hands and knees and started to crawl towards him.

Rumford looked at her in surprise. “Belle, what are—“

“Lay back, Rumford. If your ankle won’t cooperate, we’ll try a different position.” She winked at him, lust in her eyes, and as he glanced down to the open neck of her top, had a lovely view of her cleavage, noticing she wasn’t wearing a bra. _Fuck_.

Rumford laid back, finding a comfortable position for his ankle and body, and Belle crawled on top of him.

“Are you ok?” Belle said, holding herself up on her hands, her pelvis pressing against his deliciously.

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

Belle grinned. “Good!” She lowered herself down until she was flush against him, and captured his lips with her own.

He reveled in her kisses, sliding one hand under her shirt to feel the smooth skin of her back, while the other hand slid to her ass and squeezed, pulling her a little higher and tighter against his hardness.

Belle moaned at his touches, loving way they shot pleasurable shocks to her clit and made her pussy throb with want. She pressed harder against him, whimpering into his mouth as his hand squeezed her ass hard in response.

Belle released his lips, breathing heavily. She wanted this to continue somewhere with much more room

“Rumford … oh!” He licked and nibbled at her neck again and she lost herself for a minute. “Bedroom, please.”

It was Rumford’s turn to be dazed. “Bedroom. Yes, of course. Would you … _fuck_.” He gasped as she took his earlobe between her teeth and bit down lightly. “Oh, god, yes … Belle … ah! my … my cane, love, hand it to me?”

Belle pulled back, grinning evilly at him. 

“Of course.” 

She slid off him and picked up his cane. Rumford sat up and reached for it, but instead of handing it to him, she flipped it and bent one leg slightly, drawing the curved handle of the cane up the inside of her thigh before pressing it against her mound, moaning at the hard pressure against her clit through her leggings.

His eyes grew wide at her little performance for him and his cock pressed almost painfully against his slacks.

Rumford growled low in this throat, not to be outdone by the tiny, and very sexy, woman teasing him. 

“If you wanted me to use that on you, love, you only had to ask.” He smiled darkly, watching her eyes widen and hearing her breath catch.

He stood carefully and took the cane from her hands, watching her bite her lip to hide her excited smile. He placed both hands on the cane and leaned in close to her face.

“You’re tempting the beast, little girl. You’d better run and pray I don’t catch you, because if I do, I can promise you’ll be _very_ sorry.”

Belle gave an undignified, but adorable little squeak and moved quickly toward her bedroom, shutting the door almost entirely behind her. He could see it was slightly ajar.

Rumford chuckled and moved after her. So this _was_ a game she liked to play. He was more than happy to go along with it, glad to have been right in his guess that she’d respond to the idea of her partner being, well, a beast.

He pushed open her door slowly, and saw her standing just behind it. He made a show of turning to close and lock the door slowly before turning back to her.

Belle was practically vibrating with desire for him, so excited that he was willing to play with her like this. She was so wet between her thighs, and couldn’t wait for him to strip her naked.

Rumford took a step towards her, his hand snaking around her waist and drawing her close to him. He tilted his head down to whisper in her ear.

“I told you what would happen if I caught you, dear.”

She whimpered as his words sent shivers down her spine.

With surprising dexterity, he spun them around and pushed her against the door. Belle exclaimed in surprise and desire as he pressed his body flush against hers. Rumford claimed her lips and kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue in her mouth in a mimicry of what he wanted to do with his cock in her pussy.

He slid the hand not gripping his cane up her front, cupping one of her breasts in his warm palm, brushing his thumb against her nipple and pressing his hips against hers in a firm but slow rhythm.

Belle was incoherent from his hands on her and his hardness pressing into the v at the apex of her thighs. She moaned. 

“Rumford, please. Touch me, I need more of you!”

Rumford was all to happy to comply, dropping to a kneeling position that favored his ankle and leaning his cane next to her against the door. He reached under the hem of her shirt and shimmied her leggings and underwear down her legs, pulling them off and tossing them to the side.

He grabbed her hips in his hands and kissed that soft area just below her navel, nibbling it like he wanted to in the club.

Belle brought a hand to his head and gripped his hair, whimpering softly at the feel of his mouth on her abdomen.

Rumford nuzzled the area for a moment before kissing his way down to her curls and inhaling her scent deeply. She smelled even better than she had last night, warm skin mixed with the scent of her arousal, heady and musky and absolutely calling to him.

Belle saw his head move lower down her body and, realizing where he was going, voiced her approval.

“Yes, please, Rumford!”

She felt his tongue slide over her, lightly tasting her, before moving up to suckle her clit.

Belle arched her head back at the feel of his mouth, moans torn from her throat, her hand fisting in his hair.

Rumford slipped his tongue down and beyond her labia to find her entrance, bringing one of her legs up on his shoulder for better access to her.

Her smell was divine and her taste was sheer perfection on his tongue. Smooth, creamy, slightly salty. It made him growl possessively. He wanted to drink her down and never stop, and he’d be damned if he ever did. She was _his_ now.

Belle was losing her fucking mind. His firm tongue thrusting in her channel, sliding up to capture her clit an in an openmouthed kiss, swirling around her labia, were driving her to the brink of madness and she pressed his face closer, gasps and cries forcing their way out of her mouth.

Rumford moved his mouth up to suck her clit as he slid two fingers inside her and pumped them. She shrieked.

“Oh! Oh, god, yes, don’t stop!”

He curled his fingers forward, looking for the spot he hoped would push her over the edge into oblivion, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“Fuck! …Rumford, you’re going to make me come!”

He kept thrusting his fingers but loosened his mouth for a brief moment.

“That’s the idea, darling.” He applied his mouth back to sucking on her.

Belle felt the tension coil to a breaking point, her legs stiffening at the approaching orgasm. Rumford held her hips steady in a silent promise to not let her fall.

She was overwhelmed with bliss, coming hard enough to see stars behind her eyelids, and screaming his hame as she fisted her hand in his hair, the other scrabbling at the door behind her.

“Oh, fuck, oh, oh! …Rumford!”

He felt her inner muscles clench rhythmically around his fingers, wetness coating them anew, and he reveled in being the one to make her shatter that hard two nights in a row.

She giggled, as was her wont, as she came down from her high, breathing hard and releasing her hand from his head.

“I didn’t pull to hard, did I?” She stroked his hair, body jolting now and again as he nuzzled and kissed her mound gently.

“No, not at all. And if you had, I wouldn't mind.” He took his cane and used it to pull himself up, Belle helping him as best she could. Rumford pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, but sucked his fingers into his mouth one by one, staring her in the eyes as he did so.

Belle shivered and closed her eyes briefly at the intensity of the erotic sight before her.

She opened her eyes again and nearly scorched him with the heat of her gaze. 

“Clothes off, now, please.”

He obliged, and she assisted. Before long his beautiful clothing was in a pile on the floor, and her sweater had been discarded as well.

Rumford pulled her away from the door and against his body, sliding his arm around her to keep her close for the moment. He nuzzled into her hair, and she slid her hands up his biceps, to wind around his shoulders.

“Thank you.” She murmured against his neck.

He squeezed her briefly before letting go. “My pleasure, darling, and anytime you should wish for it again, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Belle giggled. She was doing a lot of that because of him, and she loved it.

She looked up at him. “My turn.” She said mischievously, pushing him gently towards the bed. He complied, laying down against her pillows and gazing at her.

Belle climbed on the bed and straddled him, leaning over him again like she had on the couch. She lowered her naked body, and he moaned at the feeling of skin on skin. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her curls formed a curtain around their faces. Belle kissed him deeply, using her tongue to tease him until she felt his cock twitch against her inner thigh. He brought up his hands to cradle her face as they kissed.

Belle made her way down his body, kissing his chest and sucking lightly on his nipples, earning a few small moans and gasps from him as she did so. She moved down his stomach, trailing her tongue down until she reached his groin.

She pulled back to look at him, finding herself impressed with what she saw. 

He was thick and turgid, the head of him purple from all the blood, thick veins lining the shaft and his testicles resting in their soft pouch just underneath. He was clean shaven save for a small patch of fur at the base of his cock and her mouth watered at the sight.

Rumford grew slightly self-conscious at her inspection. “Ah, everything alright?”

“Oh, _yes_ , Rumford.” Belle purred. “I’m quite happy with my prize.”

He gulped at the lust evident in her voice, his cock twitching in front of her mouth, begging for attention.

Belle leaned down and took the head of him in her mouth, and it was Rumford’s turn to see stars.

She swirled her tongue around, using one hand to grip his shaft and pump lightly.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Belle.” He longed to thrust fully into the heat of her mouth, but kept himself mostly in control, his hips bucking ever so slightly towards her.

Belle took him in deeper, bobbing her head slowly up and down, ending each pull back with a swirl around the head. She released him from her mouth and used her tongue to trace a path from his base all the way to the tip, fluttering the tip of her tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves on the back of the head.

One of Rumford’s hands gripped the comforter hard, the other resting lightly on her head, fingers twitching with the desire to apply more pressure but not wanting to offend her.

Belle released the hand that was gripping his shaft, and pressed it to his hand on her head, in silent permission for him to do as he pleased.

Rumford stared at Belle as she sucked him, and curled his fingers lightly around the back of her head and into her hair, applying a little force to stop her moving. 

Belle looked up at him, releasing his cock from her mouth with a wet sound, her expression puzzled.

“Belle, may I…” He gave a small thrust with his hips, his face burning with desire and a little shame at what he was asking.

She understood immediately, giving him a salacious grin before she took him half in her mouth and waited.

Rumford let out an explosive breath, and tightened his grip on her head before he began to thrust into her mouth.

Belle moaned, and increased the suction of her mouth, the sound and sensations vibrating through his cock as he thrust, and before too long it was too much and he pulled out swiftly.

“Oh, _god_ , Belle. That was so good, but I didn't want to—“

She shushed him, crawling back up his body to kiss him full on the mouth.

“Next time I don’t plan to let you stop me.” She quirked an eyebrow playfully as she reached over to her beside table drawer and pulled it open, fishing around for a condom. Finding one, she pulled it out and tore the foil with her teeth, looking at Rumford as she did so.

“ _Fuck_.” He was panting, desperate to be inside her and so, so glad she had the foresight to get protection.

“That’s the idea, darling.” She said cheekily, echoing his own words back to him.

She rolled the condom down his hard length and positioned herself above him, lowering herself slowly as her body adjusted to his size.

Rumford watched, mesmerized as Belle struggled a bit to accommodate him and then, finally, with a cry of satisfaction, sank all the way down.

His eyes rolled back in his head at the feel of her warmth enveloping him. He brought his hands to her hips as she braced her hands on his chest and began to find a rhythm that pleased them both.

Belle rolled her hips experimentally, finding all the ways his cock could caress her from the inside in this position. She leaned forward slightly and began to ride him, her only thought to keep his cock stroking her in the right places, giving her the kind of pleasure that made it hard to breathe. She moaned unabashedly and when he started to thrust in counterpoint to her motions, Belle thought she was going to fucking burst from the sensation.

Rumford thrust into her, sliding one hand from her hip up to caress and squeeze a bouncing breast. Her nipples were just a short way from his face and he was desperate to take one into his mouth and suckle.

He splayed his other hand on her upper back, urging her downward slightly so he could reach. She complied and he captured one rosy nipple in his mouth and sucked, gently at first, then harder, her noises encouraging him to be a little more rough with her.

He worked a hand between them, and found her clit with his thumb, stroking the swollen bud in opposition to her rocking. Belle cried out sharply.

“Yes … again, Rumford, please!”

He released her nipple and she sat back up, allowing him greater access to touching her where she needed it most.

He watched as her movements became more erratic the closer she got to her orgasm. Her moans mingled with her panting breaths and she suddenly went rigid above him, her face contorted as if in pain, her breathing ragged and labored, but he knew it was glorious release. He felt her flutter around his cock and he slowed his thrusting to give her a moment to recover. 

Belle collapsed on his chest, tucking her face into his neck.

“Jesus, Rumford.” She said, a little muffled in her position.

He turned his head to kiss her cheek, stroking her hair away from her face.

“Think you’re recovered enough, darling?”

She pushed herself up a little and grinned down at him. “Hell yes.”

Rumford smiled darkly back before flipping them over and driving hard into her. He pulled her legs around his waist and thrust like she was his only saving grace.

He groaned at the feel of her surrounding him; her legs around his middle, her soft thighs and round ass cushioning his thrusts, her wet heat enveloping his cock, her sweet noises in his ear.

“ _Fuck_ , Belle. You’re so hot, so soft … I can’t last much more, sweetheart.” His body was reaching its limit.

“Belle squeezed her legs around him, and put her lips to his ear. 

“Come for me, Rumford.”

And that did it. He burst inside her, feeling the release to the bottom of his soul. He thrust hard through his orgasm, Belle’s encouraging moans pulling more pleasure out of him than he knew was possible, until he was absolutely, utterly, completely spent.

He collapsed on top of her, his heart pounding and his breathing as hard as if he’d just finished an Olympic sprint.

Rumford nuzzled her neck, kissing and licking away the perspiration on the surface of her skin.

“Belle, J _esus_.”

“I know, Rumford.” She kissed him gently. “Me, too.”

He reluctantly pulled out of her and removed the condom, disposing of it in a trash bin near her bed. When he turned back, she’d moved under the covers, and was looking at him invitingly.

Rumford pulled the covers back and joined her, wrapping himself up in her from behind, her head pillowed on one of his arms, his hand lingering on her stomach, tracing small patterns with his fingers.

He kissed her shoulder and neck, and Belle inclined her head, murmuring in pleasure at the sweet kisses.

Belle yawned sleepily, settling into the warmth of them curled up together.

“Rumford?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled into her hair. “No, thank you for picking me, Belle.”

Belle’s eyelids were quite heavy, and she was well on her way to sleep, but she managed a small giggle at his words, the same ones he used the night before.

“Rumford?” She said again.

“Yes, sweet girl, what do you need?”

She pulled his arm closer around her and pressed back against him, sleep plucking at her consciousness with gentle tugs.

“Stay.”

And with that, she slipped into sleep, and missed his response.

He laid his head close to hers and whispered, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, you guys are the best. I'm so happy this little idea has gotten so much wonderful feedback! Please let me know if I went too woobie with him at the end of this chapter. I love me some woobie Rumple, but not everyone does, I get it :)

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended for this to be a one shot, PWP, but my brain had other ideas. Let me know what you think!  
> (Also, here's a secret: I love writing smut scenes. They're my favorite. Can't I just do that for a living? No? Bummer.)


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